Fox Rain
by yangri
Summary: For Uchiha Izuna, it started with a ghostly dream, April showers, and a bitter red-haired man whose soul had been eaten away by time.


**_A/N: In an alternate universe, things didn't turn out the way they wanted. _**

**_For Uchiha Izuna, it started with a ghostly dream, April showers, and a bitter red-haired man whose soul had been eaten away by time._**

**_Continuation of "_****_My Robot Wife (僕のロボット妻)". Read that first to get more context. For full context, read "Trial of Man (人間の闘争)"._**

* * *

_"Silly straw scarecrow,_

_"Swaying about,_

_"In a long grass field,_

_"Like a turnip sprout!_

_"Here comes the clouds,_

_"They're bringing in the rain,_

_"One, two, three_—

_"Let's do it all again!"_

* * *

_Who is Deidara?_

That was the question that had been plaguing young Uchiha Izuna's mind every since he had dreamed of his father for the first time in his life.

"Pencils down, everyone."

Izuna, having finished his exam twenty minutes before the others, was idly staring out the window when the teacher announced the completion of the paper.

The sound of shuffling paper, then a docile silence as the teacher collected their papers.

"You may all leave."

Almost instantly, all of his much older classmates practically jumped out of their seats and ran for the door, shouting and complaining about how difficult the test had been. Izuna calmly packed away his things into his backpack.

"Izuna-kun," the teacher addressed the only boy left in the room with a smile, "how did you find the examination? I suppose it was as easy as always. You're making new records at the school, my dear. When you first came into my classroom, I was worried about how you could keep up with the class content, considering you're only ten while your classmates are fifteen and sixteen. You've done well, Izuna-kun."

Izuna gave a close-eyed smile. "Thank you, Yamamoto-sensei." Even as he smiled, he was still thinking of what his father had whispered into his ear that fateful night, asking him to pass on her message to a dear friend of theirs—_find Sasori and tell him my friend will be waiting. If he doesn't believe you, tell him her name is Deidara._

"What do you think of special relativity?" the teacher pressed.

_It's interesting, but I don't really care right now. _"I like it. Whoever came up with it must be a genius."

Yamamoto nodded. "Ah, yes, yes... Personally, my favorite aspect of it must be time dilation. For me, it's a dream come true—it's the closest we'll ever get to time travel. Though we can only travel forward, and never back. I won't keep you in any longer—have a good afternoon, dear."

Izuna let out a small sigh when he exited the classroom. _It's been a long day. _He picked up his umbrella on the way out of the building, instantly opening it up. The boy glanced up at the sky curiously. _It's sunny, but it's also raining. This must be what they call 'April showers'."_

Laughter echoed through the courtyard as teenagers in the lower grades ran around in a euphoric frenzy, excited by the fox rains. None of them bothered to greet Izuna, but he didn't mind. They weren't his friends anyway—he had none at school.

_Deidara... her name is Deidara... That's a name from Iwagakure, isn't it? Was she from the north side or the south side? _Instead of going home, Izuna made up his mind to take a different route this time around.

The boy hesitated when the house came into view, holding a stick of dango in his hand which he had bought on the way. He still had two pieces left on the stick that he wanted to slowly savor. Then he marched right up to the front door and knocked loudly.

Seconds later, a red-haired man opened the door. Izuna thought that his face looked like it had been made from porcelain. The only thing that betrayed his age were the slight lines underneath his eyes. His throat bobbed in anticipation as the man stared him down. _Sasori. He's intimidating, that's for sure._

"You again." Sasori sounded the same as last time, speaking with a tone that was entirely void of inflection. "Did you have another dream, child?"

For a moment, Izuna thought he was mocking him. Then he smiled, noticing how Sasori seemed to blink in surprise and jerk back a little. _Ah... I've seen that kind of expression before. Normally, what they say after is_—

"You look just like your father," Sasori remarked. His voice grew hard. "If you don't have anything to say to me, leave. I don't need another reminder in my life."

"Wait, I—!" Izuna frowned. "I just wanted to talk to you... about Deidara... who was she?"

The door that was halfway through closing paused. Izuna could see only half of his face now. "Why?" he demanded harshly. "She is none of your concern."

"Then why did my father come to me that night with a message from _her_? Especially the sort that could never be trusted to a random stranger. She must have _known _me." Sasori's face twitched a little, but there was otherwise no reaction. "Please, sir. Tell me about her." He bowed at the waist.

"... She's nothing but a memory now," Sasori eventually answered.

_His memory, _Izuna realized.

"You're an odd one, Uchiha-kun. I would have thought you would inquire about your father, and not a virtual stranger."

At least it no longer seemed that he was as actively trying to be rid of him now.

"Everybody's already told me a lot about my father," Izuna admitted, running his fingers through his hair, which was never quite as smooth or straight as he wanted it to be. He might have had the face of his father, but where the hair genes had come from was a mystery; both of his parents, he had been told, had had straight, silky hair. They formed spiky bangs at the front—similar to his cousin Daichi's but not as curly—and fell down in an equally spiky cascade down his shoulders. He kept it in a low ponytail, one that made his adopted mother's eyes shine with tears whenever she thought he couldn't see. "How he was a hero. How he saved everyone." _How he was kind and intelligent, and how he loved too much for his own good. _"But I hardly hear about the people who shaped him to be that way. Including Deidara."

The door creaked open. "You don't plan on leaving anytime soon, do you, brat?"

_Now it's brat? _Izuna shook his head. "No, sir. I'll stay here all day if I have to."

A snort. "Hmph. I see you've inherited the Uchihas' stupid persistence." But the door opened fully anyway, and Izuna entered, taking off his shoes. "You might be disappointed."

"I don't care." Izuna's brow lowered. "I'll regret it even more if I never hear it."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't." Sasori turned then, glaring at him. "You don't know a thing about _regret_."

Stunned, Izuna could only sit on the couch as Sasori ducked into the kitchen, muttering that he was going to make both of them tea. When he was gone, Izuna released a breath he didn't even know he had been holding. Looking out the wide window of the living room, he could see that the fox rains were still going, the sun shining bright as it drizzled.

There was a legend, he remembered. _The cloud loved the fox, but the fox married the tiger instead. So on the day of the fox's wedding, the cloud wept. _It was just a story, a childish one at that. But he couldn't help but indulge in it, indulge in the fantasy where clouds could love and foxes married tigers.

His looked around the room a bit more before his gaze finally fell on an object sitting on the grand piano. Curious, he leaned across the small distance and plucked it from its place.

_A brooch? _Izuna held it up, examining it. _It's beautiful. Okaa-san would love it, and so would imouto. _But it was not his to take, so he settled for letting it sit on his palm as he admired it.

"You shouldn't touch things that aren't yours."

Izuna jumped, his head snapping up to see Sasori looming over him with two cups of tea. "Ah! I'm sorry, sir..."

"Hmph." Sasori snatched it from him, gingerly replacing it on the piano. Then he sat on the ottoman opposite Izuna after handing him his cup. Closing his eyes, he drank, his shoulders relaxing. A little stiffly, Izuna tried to copy him. There was something elegant about him, yet something also very... sad. He could see it in the way he sipped his drink, his facial muscles tensing every time he lifted his lips from the brim, as if the tea's absence tore him back into a reality he despised.

"You don't like tea?" Sasori said, almost casually. He hadn't opened his eyes yet.

_How did he...? _"I... I'm not the biggest fan, no."

Sasori smiled into his cup, his eyes finally opening to look at Izuna, his gaze completely devoid of any spark or mirth. "That must be your mother's genes. Your father treated tea almost like a drug."

"Like you?"

There was a freezing silence that followed. Sasori's hand were stiff on the cup's handle. Izuna blinked.

"I'm sorry, I—"

"Yes, like me." Sasori took another sip, talking over Izuna and completely shutting out his attempt at an apology. His eyes were open a little wider his time, and Izuna felt like those murky brown orbs were boring right into the deepest parts of his soul. "In a lot of ways, your father and I were very alike... But he lacked vision."

"Vision?" Izuna echoed.

Sasori smirked. "Yes, brat, vision. And from the looks of you, you don't have much of it either."

His vision was perfectly fine, but the Uchiha boy had a sneaking suspicion that Sasori wasn't talking about the physical kind.

"Essentially," Sasori continued when Izuna remained silent, "your father had what is called 'tunnel vision'. Incapable of seeing the bigger picture. Always too hung up on the past, and what he could do to make the present better. He never thought of the future. Never planned properly. His present was always on what had already happened, and his future was what was happening. For a hero, your father was certainly a right fool."

"He wasn't!" Sasori gave him an intrigued glance when Izuna slammed his cup onto the coffee table. "My father was a hero," Izuna insisted, glowering at him. "He wanted to save everyone—"

"In the end, he saved no one. Not even you. Like I said," Sasori's tone was bitter, "he was a fool."

_Not even me? _"What... What are you talking about—?"

"Itachi wanted to die, Izuna. Not even you were enough to keep him chained to this world. His disease would have been treatable in the early stages. He knew that. But he let it fester... let it fester because he thought he deserved to die."

"That's not _true_!" Izuna stood up. "What about Sasuke-oji?! He would have never left him alone—"

"_Sasuke-oji_," he hated how Sasori said his uncle's name so mockingly, "was practically already a grown man when he died. He had his own life. Itachi convinced himself that he couldn't keep dragging him back. Tried to take the pain away by shouldering all the pain for everyone. In the end, it blew up in his face. All he ever did was cause more pain, more suffering."

Izuna's teacup toppled over. Sasori lowered his gaze to the brown stain on his table. When he looked up again, Izuna was already running out of the house.

But the man could still hear his silent question, practically begging to be answered, _How would _you _know?_

Sasori drained the last of his tea, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders heavier than before. _Because of his eyes. Those beautiful, cursed Sharingan eyes told me everything. And if people had bothered to look a little closer, they would have seen it, too._

* * *

_I should have never gone there! _Wiping angry tears prickling the corners of his eyes away, Izuna slumped against a tree, its leaves the only shelter the boy had from the fox rains.

In a sullen mood, he drew his knees to his chest and buried his face in them, the few tears he shed soaking into his jacket sleeve. He had never been much of a crier, but to hear his father's name being... being smeared by a virtual stranger was disheartening.

_What a prickly man. Just like a desert cactus._

Water dripped on his nose, making him sneeze. He was going to get a cold if he stayed out here any longer. He made to get up, but his body was feeling strangely heavy and tired.

And had the rain stopped...?

The sun was still shining bright, turning the leaves above him into barley and gold.

Before he knew it, Izuna had dozed off.

* * *

The sound of a little girl crying. "Wuuu... I can't believe you!" She choked down a sob, covering her face with her hands. "Why would he do that, huh?! Huh?! Tell me _why_!"

"I don't _know_!" Another girl's voice—she sounded almost as equally hysterical as the first girl. "I'm sorry, Kurotsuchi, un! I'm sorry! My dad's a scumbag, I know, yeah!"

Izuna blearily blinked his eyes open, just in time to see a black-haired girl slap another girl—she had hair as yellow as the barley he had seen moments before he fell asleep—across the face, the victim of the slap falling over in the grass in surprise.

"I hate you!" the raven-haired child hissed hatefully. "I never want to see you again, _Deidara-teme_! You _ruined my family_!"

_Dei... Deidara?! _Izuna sat up straighter, his head feeling dizzy. _Ow... Where the heck am I? Oh, right, I fell asleep underneath that tree, the one nearby Sasori-san's house... He never came out to find me? Figures._

The black-haired girl—Kurotsuchi, was it?—stormed off.

The other child—she must have been around his age, possibly younger—sat stunned in the cattails. Then her face practically crumpled and she sniffled, starting to cry. There was a stinging red handprint already starting to form on the left side of her face. She was not a pretty crier, Izuna had to admit. Then again, not many people were. Feeling pity for the girl who had been assaulted by her friend, he got up and went over to her.

The girl—_Deidara_—glanced upward to see an outstretched hand. "Kou...?"

"Kou?" Izuna echoed. "I think you've got the wrong person..."

She took his hand anyway, probably glad for a friendly face. She had the air of a little girl who didn't seem to be seeing a lot of those lately.

"Don't get the wrong idea," Deidara muttered, her voice full of resentment. "I didn't do anything to her, hm."

"I never said that," Izuna pointed out calmly. "Umm... Maybe we should dry your face."

She sniffed, wiping her tears away. "Okay."

It was then Izuna realized that he had no idea where he was. Why were there so many trees here? And where was Sasori's house? Panic began to fill him, and he would have fell to his knees in scared confusion had Deidara not tugged his sleeve impatiently.

"There's a river over there, yeah." She pointed in a random direction.

Izuna flushed. "I knew that."

"Surreee you did..."

At least she seemed to be in a better mood now. _But seriously, _Izuna thought, _Where the hell am I? This... definitely isn't Konoha. Am I dreaming? _He pinched himself.

The forest buzzed steadily with the chirps of spring insects until it was interrupted by the babbling of a brook. Izuna stood back as Deidara knelt by the stream and splashed water on her face. Then she dried herself with her sleeve; beneath her lifted arm, Izuna could see how her mouth was down-turned and trembling as if she were about to burst into tears.

But then her arm fell back down to the side, and her face was calm once more. She didn't look him in the eye. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"... No, I'm not. Um, Deidara-san—where exactly are we?"

A bird called in the distance.

"You know my name?"

"I... I heard your friend say it," Izuna answered carefully.

Her lips dipped into a downward curve again before she looked down. "Are you lost then?" she whispered.

"Huh?"

"I said _are you lost_, hm!" Izuna jumped when Deidara suddenly exploded, glaring at him as if he had just offended her greatly in some way.

"Eh?! I didn't—I mean, yeah! Yeah, I am lost. I have no idea I got here. I... I just fell asleep underneath a tree and when I woke up, I saw you. You and Kurotsuchi-san, that is."

"Hmph..." Deidara stalked off. When he didn't follow immediately, she turned around, irritated. "Well, what are you waiting for, punk? An invitation?"

"Huh?"

"I'm taking you to town, dammit! You're slow, aren't you?"

"Slow?!" _Nobody's ever called me that before! _Izuna didn't know whether to be perplexed or offended at the girl's blatant disrespect for him. He was probably older than her, and—Itachi forgive his arrogance—smarter, too. Feeling his own temper rising quicker than ever, he grumbled and followed her begrudgingly.

Deidara picked up a rock on their way, throwing it up and down, her eyes half-lidded in apparent boredom. Meanwhile, Izuna was thinking hard.

_How many people in the world are named Deidara? _He frowned at her back; she was wearing a loose green yukata that left her legs bare from the knee down. _What are the odds of this happening? And most importantly... Where am I?_

The chime of shrine bells rang in the distance, and Deidara hummed. "It's tea time," she commented, throwing the rock in a random direction. "Come on—we can go to my house, hm." She picked up speed, and Izuna kept the pace, always remaining two or three steps behind her. The children burst through the trees, and Izuna's eyes widened at the town before him.

It was beautiful. It was so different from the urban jungle that was Konoha; it had a little country charm and reminded him of the quaint but delightful little villages he saw in his history textbook. They took the cobblestone pathway, passing by a fountain and a moderately busy market.

"Is that Uri's child?"

"Who's the boy?"

"It's not Kou. Perhaps another mistake? Tsk."

Izuna threw them a curious glance. "Deidara?" he whispered, catching up to her. "What are they saying?"

She gave him a wary look. "Are you pulling my leg or do you really not know, hm?" His silence was enough confirmation for her. "A foreigner, then. Don't pay any attention to them. They don't know what they're saying..."

"I... Okay." _Does it have anything to do with the argument she had with Kurotsuchi earlier? _They walked side by side until they arrived at a small cottage with white smoke coming out of the chimney.

"I'm home!" Deidara announced, slipping off her shoes. Izuna followed suit. There was no response. "Okaa-san must be still at the theatre. Looks like we have the place to ourselves for a while, hm."

Izuna looked around. "What about your dad—arrggh!" He flinched against the kitchen counter when a giant white beetle crawled out from behind the kettle, clicking its pincers.

"Oh! It's okaa-san!"

"_That's _your mother?!"

"No, idiot!" Deidara picked up the beetle. "It's an extension of her will. It's our family kekkei genkai, yeah. Hmm... She wants me to make lunch for myself. I'll tell her you're here with me." She rubbed the beetle's head, then sent it on its way. The bug heaved itself onto the windowsill and scuttled away. As she put the kettle on, she asked him, "Are you a city boy?"

"City boy? Hmm..." Izuna leaned against the kitchen island. "I guess so."

"The capital or somewhere else?"

"Err... the capital?" Technically, he wasn't lying—he did live in _Konohagakure's _capital city.

"Lucky. You must be rich to live there." She scrutinized his school uniform, which consisted of a white short-sleeved shirt and gray pants. "You even look the part, hm... So what brings you to the hills?"

It appeared like she was making conversation, but Izuna couldn't help but feel like she was trying to glean all the information she could from him without being too obvious. "It's... classified? Oh!" He pointed out the window, hoping he didn't appear too frantic. "It's raining. Again."

"Raining? In the middle of April?" Deidara looked out the window. "Oh, wow, you're right, hm. That'll be good for the crops. All the farmers I know love fox rains." She grinned at him, lifting a finger as she said, "Did you know that this happens because the cloud is crying? Because the cloud's love, the fox, married the tiger instead. I saw it in one of okaa-san's performances, once. She was the cloud, and the fox was otou-san..." She trailed off, her eyes glazing over with a grief that Izuna couldn't quite understand. Was her father dead?

Perhaps it was from staring at the sun for too long, but Izuna felt strangely dizzy. Deidara shouted in surprise when he fell to his knees, reaching out for him. She made to grab him, her fingers wrapping around his pale wrist and _biting_.

Then he was falling into the floor, and—

* * *

"Kid! Hey, kid!"

Izuna jolted awake with a shout, his chest heaving and his wrist sore. _What happened?! _His eyes had to adjust to the change in lighting. It was considerably darker now; the clouds had moved over the sun, turning the sky grey but the fox rains—were they still fox rains, now?—they continued, pouring even harder, and—

Sasori's face hovered over his, his brow furrowed in a concerned frown.

"Sa... Sasori-san?"

"You passed out, that's what happened," Sasori informed him dryly. The rain continued to pour around them, almost drowning out Sasori's voice. "For someone who looks so much like him, you're quite unalike your father."

"Well," Izuna pushed himself up, brushing dirt and grass off his hands and on his shorts instead, "I guess it just means I'm not his carbon copy like everyone seems to think. I'm not a hero like him."

"Even after everything I said, you still believe in him," Sasori mused. His arm moved, and then Izuna looked up to see a black umbrella sheltering the both of them.

"Why should I listen to a bitter old man?" Izuna said with a little more bite than usual.

"This bitter old man has been alive and walking since before you even _swam _in your father's balls, _boy_," Sasori retorted with equal amount of spite. "And unlike you, I have more than the words of blind fools to come to my own conclusion about your equally foolish father."

"I don't get you," the boy said as they walked through the trees of Konoha and back to Sasori's neighborhood. "Everybody said that you two were friends. Why do you hate him so much? Hm?"

Sasori stiffened. "Hate? Hate Itachi? Nobody _hated _Itachi. No. No, I don't hate him. I hate what he represents. The benevolent martyr hero who bore all the pain and suffering in the world _so no one else would have to_!" His voice rose to a frightful roar then, and Izuna almost shrunk into his clothes, a chill going down his spine. The handle of the umbrella was shaking beneath Sasori's grip. "And in the end," Sasori continued viciously, "He solved nothing, only increased the pain. No mortal man has ever existed to carry the weight of the world. If he ever tries, it will crush him and people who live in his shadow. And that's exactly what happened—Itachi's death was the final blow. He broke your family and his pathetic demise is a stain on the damn hero who should have come back alive! Do you know why she died, brat? Because he couldn't save himself, and she would have never let another loved one die under her watch! She died for nothing because he succumbed to his own shortcomings! They were idiots! Idiots, the both of them, and we're paying the price for their poison right now!"

A long, uncomfortable silence stretched between them, one which was only filled by the mournful fall of the cloud's tears.

It was not quite the same, Izuna thought, but if Deidara were the fox, and Itachi the tiger, then Sasori would certainly be the cloud. But—

"Do you think," Izuna started, "she would like to hear you talking like this? She'd probably cry." He thought of the little girl in the forest, who had fought so hard to keep the tears back.

"Don't be ridiculous." Sasori's voice was as cold as the air. "Deidara never cried over words."

"Then you didn't really know her, did you?"

"And I suppose _you _do? You were nothing but a _babe _on the tail end of her lifetime. You barely even _existed_." If he was angry before, he was furious now. Furious at the insinuation. He could hear it in his voice—that icy, acute anger that boiled and chilled his blood until his veins were raw.

It was a wild guess, a wild venture—

"She was the only one, wasn't she?" Izuna could barely even hear himself speak over the thudding downpour. "The only one who never gave up on you." _Even as a kid my age, she came across as that kind of person. Once she's attached to you, she'll never want to let go. Unless, that was really a dream? _It was gamble, that was certain.

Sasori didn't answer. Perhaps he was too angry, or perhaps he didn't hear—

"... Both your father and Deidara... were the epitome of what I never was and never can be."

_Did I hear him right? _Izuna was almost afraid to ask. "And what's that?"

The man looked down at the boy, an ancient sadness and remorse brimming in his usually expressionless eyes, and Izuna felt as if he were seeing him more clearly.

"A good person."

* * *

"Izuna! Oh, Izuna, where have you been?! You're soaking wet!"

Izuna couldn't help but smile as the only mother he had ever known wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a hug, not even caring how the action soaked the front of her dress. Shimizu Asagi fussed over him, ordering his big brother, Shogo, to bring a towel and a spare change of clothes.

"We're going to have a talk about this, young man," Asagi said sternly, promising a lecture after dinner.

Izuna ducked his head. "Sorry, okaa-san."

Sasori and his umbrella and left Izuna after they hit the Market District. From there, Izuna had ran all the way home in the rain and was now wetter than a sponge.

"Geez, otouto," Shogo remarked as he threw a towel at his brother, a lopsided grin on his face. "Are you finally growing some balls?"

"Shogo!" Asagi's voice was sharp.

"I was just saying! Looks like little Izuna-kun is finally growing up and having his own adventures." The teenager wrinkled his nose. "Better than spending all day studying and training like you normally do."

"He's good at it, too," a footfall sounded, and their sister, nine-year-old Yuuna, appeared on the staircase, smiling cheekily, "He can already whoop your butt, aniki."

"Ach! Who's side are you on, imouto?!" Shogo pouted, and an exasperated Asagi pushed him aside.

"Go set up the dinner table," she ordered. "You help, too, Yuuna-chan."

"Why do I have to help the _chick magnet_?" Yuuna sniffed.

"Oi! I can't help it if I'm popular."

Bickering, the siblings made their way to the kitchen, leaving Izuna with their mother in the living room. She helped him change into his pajamas and toweled off his hair, even when he insisted she needn't do so.

She palmed his forehead. "No fever," he heard her mutter, "But it's too early to tell..."

"Okaa-san," Izuna said, amused, "I'm fine, really. But I think Yuuna and Shogo are going to hit each other with the chopsticks if you don't wrangle them back under control."

"Izuna," Asagi sighed, "Don't give me that. What you did today... It's so unlike you. Is something wrong? You're... You're not being bullied at school, are you? If you are, I'm going to talk to the principal—"

"Okaa-san," her son interrupted patiently. "It's nothing at school. I... I just... It's been a long day, that's all."

That still didn't explain his not immediately coming home, but he was too drained to fix up a lie. Asagi clearly saw how tired he was, her eyes softened.

"Go upstairs and rest. Your auntie and uncle are coming over for dinner, but if you don't feel up to it, you can stay in your room. I'll bring dinner up for you."

Izuna hugged her tightly. "Thanks," he whispered in her ear. He had never felt so grateful for Asagi's kind, understanding nature. It made guilt prick his heart harder than he would have liked, getting out from telling the truth like that, but this was something he needed to deal with by himself. After kissing her cheek, he went upstairs, flopping onto his warm bed. He really needed a good sleep right about now...

So he closed his eyes.

* * *

"Is Izuna-kun not coming down for dinner?" Rin asked as they all got seated at the dinner table.

"No," Yuuna answered sullenly, "Though I don't know why you care."

She flinched, and Asagi harshly reprimanded, "Yuuna! Apologize to Rin-oba immediately. That was completely uncalled for."

"But it's the truth! She shouldn't ask for him if she doesn't even like him—"

"Imouto!" Shogo clamped his hand over her mouth. "There's a time and place for everything."

Asagi, flushing in shame, said to the Hatake couple, "I am so sorry about her. I... She doesn't mean it, she doesn't know any better—"

"That's enough." Kakashi's voice was not unkind. Personally, he was just glad that Rin's children had not accompanied them to Asagi's, both of them on a night outing with friends. Maybe Yuuna wouldn't have said that if Hikari were around, considering how much she respected Obito's daughter, but if she had, Daichi quite possibly would have made her cry with smarting words. However, Yuuna did not deserved to be silenced. "She's old enough to make her own judgement on things, Asagi-san." He eyed Yuuna. "Though, your brother is right about there being a time and place. Please don't speak to my wife like that again, especially in front of other people."

If anyone noticed that he did not defend his beloved against Yuuna's accusation of her dislike for Izuna, they didn't say anything.

Dinner passed in an awkward silence, all of them except possibly Shogo regretting their presence.

Eventually, Rin put down her spoon. "I... We must talk. About Izuna-kun, that is."

Yuuna opened her mouth again, but one warning glare from Asagi had her shutting up and glaring at the table.

"What about him?" Asagi asked coolly. "You've never showed this much interest in him before, despite your coming here."

"I... I think there may be a misunderstanding. I don't dislike Izuna, far from it—"

"But you don't like him either!" Yuuna blurted, immediately covering her mouth afterwards. "Whoops."

"You totally did that on purpose," Shogo muttered under his breath.

"That isn't true!" Rin burst out, slamming her hands on the table and looking pleadingly at the family that seemed to condemn her.

"Then why isn't Kakashi-san saying anything?" murmured Asagi, closing her eyes with some sort of finality.

Kakashi stirred then, pity and regret lingering in his single eye. "... Tell her, Rin..."

"I..." Rin buried her face in her hands and let out a sigh. "I know I'm cold to him. I thought I could get over another reminder in my life, but apparently not. That boy... is the embodiment of everything I've lost."

In a way, she and Kakashi were a lot like each other, always trying their best to look away from painful reminders of the past.

"He's that to a lot of people," Asagi stated, her voice neutral. "But please, Rin-san. He is not his father. Or his mother. Or merely a reminder, for that fact. He is my son, and he deserves to grow into his own person."

"I know." Rin sat back, smiling sadly. "And I'm sorry it's like this."

"We all are," Kakashi echoed, and they all couldn't help but silently agree.

"I hope he's asleep," Yuuna uttered to herself. "I hope he didn't hear any of that. I don't care if we don't share the same blood; he'll always be my brother."

Shogo squeezed her hand under the table in mutual agreement.

Little did they know, Izuna was living in an entirely different time.

* * *

It was night time when he woke up again, but certainly not in his own room. Izuna looked around in the unfamiliar living room, hearing clatter in the kitchen.

This was—

"You're up!"

Izuna wheezed when a body landed on him. "Dei... Deidara, can't... breathe..."

"Oh, sorry!" She slid off the couch where he was lying, propping her arms on it instead. She was frowning at him. "I thought you'd never wake up again." At his confused look, she elaborated, "You hit your head on the counter, hm."

"Oh, uh... Did you drag me all the way here?"

Deidara smirked. "Of course, yeah. I may not look it, but I'm pretty strong. You could even call me a taijutsu master." She paused before adding reluctantly, "In training, that is."

"Musume-chan," a female voice called from the kitchen, and Izuna almost jumped. "Is your friend awake?" Her voice was low and pure, and from the gentle tone of it, Izuna instantly envisioned her as someone like his mother. Did she have brown hair, too? Or was she blonde like her daughter?

"Yeah!" Deidara yelled back. "I think he'll be fine!"

"That's good." Izuna almost gasped when she emerged, holding a ladle in her free hand. She smiled at them both. "The soup's ready. Why don't we all eat, yes?"

"Great," Deidara pushed herself up, "I'm starved, hm. Come on, er... I never got your name."

"Oh! Sorry—I'm Izuna."

"Hmm..." Deidara smiled, clapping her hands together. "Izuna-chan it is, yeah!"

"Hey! What's up with that honorific?" the boy complained as they followed Deidara's mother into the kitchen, where the small dining table was. "I'm probably older than you, you know."

"How old, then, hm?"

"I'm ten."

"Feh!" She rolled her eyes at him, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm turning ten this May, so that doesn't count!"

"Musume-chan, manners," her mother reminded lightly. As she served them soup, she said to Izuna, "I welcome you to our home, Izuna-kun. My name is Uri, and you already know Deidara, yes?"

"Y-yes." Izuna dipped his head politely to her as they sat. "Thank you for your hospitality, Uri-oba-san."

Uri's smile was decidedly gentle. "It's nothing, really."

Then they all put their hands together and chorused, "Itadakimasu!"

As they dug in, Izuna's mind wandered off, as it frequently did; all the while, though, he kept his eyes fixed on Uri beneath his bangs. _This is surreal. These people... are they real or not? _He pinched his leg. It hurt. Then he tried to drink his soup without blowing first, cringing.

"What the hell are you doing, hm?" Deidara's blunt inquiry came down like a hammer on his head.

"Musume-chan."

"Oops." Deidara wagged her spoon at him. "You keep zoning out, though. What's up with that, hm?"

"I just..." Izuna hesitated, glancing around his surroundings. A clocked ticked on the wall, and he felt sweat beading at his temple. "What year is it? Please."

Mother and daughter exchanged a glance. Then—

"Age 749," they chorused, perplexed.

And Izuna almost fell out of his chair.

* * *

Even if he tried, Izuna didn't think he'd be able to hate Uri. She had been nothing but kind and patient with him, even when he practically shut down at the dinner table. She... was just like his own mother, in a way. They had the same quiet steel as well—both were women who had seen the worst sides of humanity in one way or another.

Uri let him share Deidara's room for the night, laying out a futon next to Deidara's bed. It was in pitch black darkness that she whispered him a question.

"Izuna-chan? Where are you really from?"

_That's not the right question, _Izuna answered silently. Aloud, he said, "Around."

"Don't give me that bullshit, yeah." He could hear her sit up, her bed creaking. "The more I think about it," her voice grew suspicious, "the stranger you are. It's hard, yeah, finding someone as pale as you in Iwagakure."

"You already knew that I was a foreigner, Deidara."

"Foreign to this town was what I thought, hm. So then, what country are you from? Where are your parents? And how did you get here?"

Izuna said defensively, "Why didn't you ask first before you invited me into your house?"

Deidara scowled. "Because I can tell you're not a bad guy. It's instinct, hm. But now you're really pissing me off..." Her blue eyes were the only thing that shone in the dark, and Izuna's only guide to her whereabouts as she got out of bed and stalked toward the window, throwing it open. He startled when she climbed onto the windowsill.

"What the—where are you going?!" Izuna hissed, kicking his futon blanket off to drag her back. "Hey! Hey, Deidara—!"

She disappeared out the window.

Izuna heaved a sigh, passing a hand through his spiky hair as he contemplated whether to follow her or not. What if she got kidnapped out there? One could never know what kind of bad people roamed around at night... Before he could regret it, he jumped out the window after all.

The fall was short, Deidara's house being squat, and he landed on his feet without much trouble. Warily, he glanced around before following the girl's disappearing figure straight into the long-grass field behind the house. In the air, the moon shone brightly, a white button in a blanket of stars.

The temperature dipped as the night settled. For a moment, Izuna almost panicked when she disappeared in the grass, the stalks at becoming taller and taller the further in they went. If not for the moon, he would have thought he had wandered into a different world. He quickly found her sitting on a low boulder, the upper half of her body protruding from the grass.

Quietly, he moved to join her, the only sound he was making being the crunching of dry grass and pebbles beneath his bare feet. They stung, but he could endure the pain. The time that Shogo had accidentally broken his arm during a spar had been worse.

"Why did you follow me?" Deidara sulked, not looking at him. "In case you didn't get the memo, I'm kinda ticked at you, yeah."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so ungrateful back there." Izuna dropped his gaze.

She sighed. "Whatever. It's not just that, honestly. It's a lot of things." At his quizzical look, she added, "Not everything has to do with you."

"I figured."

Deidara gave a tiny smile. "Will you ever tell me? Where you're from, that is."

"I... I can't. Sorry."

"I figured," Deidara repeated what he had said moments ago.

"What about you?" Izuna turned the tables on the questioning. "Is it because of your friend? Kurotsuchi-san?" Deidara blinked, and Izuna could almost see the walls forming around her heart. Trying to sound nonchalant, he added, "It's not like I'll be staying long, anyway." _I hope. _"Who do I have to tell?"

Her nostrils flared, and she grabbed fistfuls of her nightgown. "The whole town knows, anyway," she told him, her voice full of resentment. "You should see the way they look at me, hm." She picked up a small rock—a part of the boulder that had separated from it with time and the weather. "When will they get it through their thick skulls," a muscle in her lower jaw twitched, "that I don't want their pity?! Hm?!" Izuna's eyes followed the rock's trajectory as she threw it as hard as she could into the distance. "Promise me!"

"Huh?"

She looked him dead in the eye. "Promise me that you won't look at me like they do, or hate me like Kurotsuchi does now, or I'll kick you out of my house, hm!"

_Eh? That's a really dangerous promise! But... _"You don't need to threaten me," Izuna complained. "I'm not dumb—I'm not going to give up Uri-san's kindness just to blab about something that's not even my business. You don't have to tell me, Deidara, if you don't want to."

Deidara didn't take him up on the offer. "You promised, so I'll hold you to it," she stated. "Anyway, the story's not that long. We can be back inside soon," she added pointedly, noticing how he was shivering slightly in the cold. _Not used to the mountainous areas... probably grew up somewhere warm... hmm... _"Everything started with... otou-san." She fell silent, unsure of how to continue. "You see... I..." Deidara lowered her gaze, her eyes at half-mast in a mixture of shame and vexation. "It turns out, Kurotsuchi and I share a brother. His name is Kou."

_Kou, _Izuna realized with a jolt, _That was who she called me the first time I came here! She thought I was her brother. That means Kou takes after Kurotsuchi-san, and since Uri-san is blonde, it's unlikely that_—

"Oh," Izuna mumbled when he reached the most logical conclusion.

"He was born out of wedlock," Deidara continued, "And turned into the orphanage when those _scumbags _realized they couldn't care for him, hm! It's shitty as hell!" Her tone grew a little more distressed. "But when we all went into school, Kurotsuchi and half the girls in our grade started crushing on him, hm! Imagine how she felt when she found out that they were half-siblings."

"Okay," the Uchiha boy said slowly, "So Kou's why Kurotsuchi-san is so angry? And because of your father and her mother?"

Deidara shook her head. "That's not all there is to it. You see... Kou had—still does, actually—this tendency to follow me around whenever he sees me. He's like a puppy, yeah. Kurotsuchi thought I knew and she hates that I didn't tell her. But I didn't know, hm! I don't know why he's like that—I know he doesn't have a crush on me because he knows we're related, and—and—!" She swallowed. "He doesn't treat me like a crush. He treats me like I'm his favorite sister, yeah. I think that's why Kurotsuchi took it so hard." Her face scrunched up. "She's such an idiot!"

"H-hey, don't cry!"

"Shut up!" She buried her face into her hands. "I'm not _crying_, hm!"

Izuna gave her an exasperated look. Then he softened, turning away. "I'm not looking. You can cry if you want."

A loud sniffle sounded as he took in the sight of the stars, twinkling in the sky like sparkling sequins on a vast blue quilt.

When he turned around again, she had calmed down, eyes dull.

He wasn't entirely sure what prompted him, but—

"Do you hate your dad?" he murmured. It'd been bothering all this time, even if he didn't exactly know it.

"Yes," she answered fiercely, her brows furrowing. Her voice wavering a little, she asked defensively, "Why wouldn't I?"

"I was just asking," he said mildly. "My dad's dead, too."

"Oh." Deidara looked away. "Sorry. That's too bad, yeah. I bet he was better than mine. I bet he didn't cheat on your mom."

"I..." Izuna swallowed, thinking of all the things Sasori had had to say about Itachi. _A hero. A martyr. A fool. _Had he ever cheated on his biological mother? Probably not. Definitely not. "No," he said in the end, shaking his head. "He didn't."

"See—"

"But he wasn't perfect either."

Deidara blinked, a little startled at being cut off.

"My dad died when I was really young," he told her, an accepting sadness weighing down on his tone. "I didn't really know him, but a lot of people did. Same with my mom. But everyone said that they were good people. My dad especially. Everyone called him a hero."

Sasori's snarling face appeared in his mind._ "The benevolent martyr hero who bore all the pain and suffering in the world _so no one else would have to!_"_

Her temper flared slightly. "Well, if he was so great—"

"He wasn't a hero." Izuna stared at her, an almost desperate sort of pleading in his eyes. "He was just a person. A person who gave everything he had to everyone and had nothing left for himself. Do you know why he died? It was a slow and drawn out suicide. He let himself get so sick that there was no chance of recovery. Because he thought that he had nothing left—I wasn't enough for him to want to keep on living." His breath caught into his throat as the back of his eyeballs burned. "He wasn't perfect. But I don't hate him. I just wish he gave me a chance."

Deidara's jaw slackened a little when tears started to fall from his eyes, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to find words. Her ears were burning red—with what? Shame?—and it felt like some sort of hand was clawing at her heart. She gritted her teeth when she felt tears spring into her eyes once more.

She remembered.

She remembered how much her father had played with her and encouraged her to pursue taijutsu. They would dance in the field sometimes—the Silly Scarecrow Dance, they called it, where she put her feet on top of his and they wobbled around like straw-stuffed men. Whenever she couldn't sleep, he would tell her a story about the history of the Bakuhatsu Tribe, or maybe a funny tale that made her giggle.

_I used to adore him._

But then it had all came crashing down when Kou came rolling out of the bag. Her father had cheated. Had slept with another woman—Kurotsuchi's mother, no less. The little black-haired boy who could make ice from his palms was living, breathing proof of his infidelity—the fact that her father had tried to hide his existence just made the wound throb even more.

She had wondered—had he ever really loved her mother? _Did he ever really love _me_?_

"Stupid Izuna," she sobbed, her hair falling around her face as her face scrunched up. The answer was so clear that it hurt her eyes. "Bringing up this stupid shit, hm...!"

He gave a watery laugh. "I'm sorry."

_They liked to do the Silly Scarecrow Dance during spring._

_Sometimes, she sang along with his humorous humming, a sound which made his chest rumble, easing any apprehensions she had._

_She shrieked in delight when he dipped her close to the ground._

"Don't be sorry," Deidara whispered, not even sure if he couldn't hear her. Louder, she said, pretending that she _didn't _probably look like shit, "Let's go back to the house. I'm cold, hm."

"Hn." Izuna slid off the rock. "Yeah."

* * *

When Izuna woke up again, he was back in his own bed. Gasping silently, he sat up, looking at his hands. _Was I dreaming? _He slapped his cheeks with both hands. _No way. That was too real. _Looking at his clock, he could see that it was well past midnight and fast approaching dawn.

Silent as a ghost, he wandered downstairs and started preparing breakfast. He nearly burned himself on the stove multiple times, lost in his thoughts.

There was an ache in his heart that intensified every time he thought of his father. Of the honest, raw truth in Sasori's words, and Deidara's equally honest tears from the other time.

By the time he had finished cooking, the sun was up, and someone knocked on the front door. It was the weekend; his mother wouldn't be awake for a while, the same going for his siblings. He would heat up the food later. But who was this at the door—who was awake this early who had business at their house?

Izuna answered his own question by answering the door.

Hyuuga Hanabi—soon to be Uchiha Hanabi—stood outside. "Hey there, Izuna-kun. You're sure up early."

"Hanabi-oba-chan!"

She ruffled his hair, grinning. "I told you—just call me Hanabi-onee-san! I'm not that old yet. Anyway, is your mom up?"

He shook his head. "No. Why? I can pass along the message."

Hanabi gave him a scroll. "This is one of your mom's dresses that she let me borrow. Tell her I washed it and thanks!"

"Sure." Izuna opened the door a little wider. "You should come in, actually, and give it to her yourself. She'll be up soon enough, and you can have breakfast with us."

"You sure?" Hanabi sniffed, and winced when her stomach rumbled. "Well..."

He beamed at her.

Giving into her hunger, Hanabi retrieved the scroll from him and took off her shoes, ambling inside. "Bacon and eggs? You're too good for a ten-year-old!"

It wasn't a traditional breakfast, but no one in the household would mind.

"It's the only thing I know how to cook properly," Izuna said honestly, plating up some grub for his soon-to-be-official aunt.

"_Still_. You're too modest, kid."

Swiftly changing the subject, he asked her, "How's Sasuke-oji? I haven't seen him for a while."

"Ah!" Hanabi let out a sigh. "He's been so busy with a murder case. He says the police will be making an arrest soon—it's just a matter of evidence. Sorry, kiddo, I know how much you like him."

Izuna shrugged. "That's okay."

His aunt's brown lowered slightly. "If you say so. Personally, I can't wait until this case is over. He's been ghosting me ever since—" She blinked. "Never mind."

"Since what?"

"Geez, do you have to be so nosy? I guess there's no harm in telling you, though..."

Izuna inched forward, curious.

"I was drunk at the time," Hanabi began.

"Hanabi-onee-san!" he admonished.

"Hey! Just a little tipsy, okay? And you know who I saw? Deidara."

_What? _It felt like a rock had just dropped into his stomach. His mouth dry, he stuttered out, "Uhh..."

"Oh, you probably don't know her." Apparently, Hanabi hadn't noticed his faltering. Or if she did, she didn't show it. Her countenance grew a little sad. "But she meant a lot to some of us. She saved me once, you know. I was being stubborn, but she took a risk to let me live. Like I said, she meant a lot to some of us... some more than others."

_Sasori._

Suddenly, Izuna had the overwhelming urge to visit the red-haired recluse. To right the wrongs and injustice that the universe had served him. Had served all of them. If Rin-oba thought that he had never noticed the way she looked at him—like he was some kind of unfriendly and unwanted ghost—she was sorely mistaken.

"Sasuke got all defensive," huffed Hanabi. "Since Deidara died just a little before Itachi—your dad, I mean. He said I was probably just seeing things. But I _know _what I saw! And now he's giving me the cold shoulder. Hmph."

"Oh..." _How could a dead person show up? Did... did the timelines somehow mesh together or something?!_

Hanabi finished her breakfast when Asagi ambled down the stairs, a fluffy robe wrapped around her body. "Oh!" she gasped a little in surprise. "Hanabi-chan! I'm sorry—how long have you been here?"

The two women chatted for a little before Hanabi gave her the scroll containing her dress and headed off. Asagi was helping herself to Izuna's breakfast when the boy piped up, "Ne, okaa-san?"

"Yes?"

"Can I go out today? I want to visit a friend."

Asagi smiled. "You may. But be back in time for lunch, okay?"

"Hai!"

* * *

Sasori deadpanned at the brat standing on his doorstep. "What is it?"

"I wanted to see you," Izuna admitted. "It's about Deidara."

The door started to close in his face, but Izuna wedged his shoe between the edge of the door and the frame.

"Stop it, or I might break your foot."

"Please listen to me!"

Sasori stopped trying to butcher his toes. "Or what?"

"Or... or just keep living the way you are right now!"

The red-haired man's eyes widened slightly in surprise. Then, noticing Izuna's foot was no longer blocking the door, he closed it with a loud slam.

"Dammit!" Frustration burning through his blood, Izuna hammered his fist on the door. "Sasori-san! Stop living like this!"

There was no reply.

It was useless.

Sighing heavily, Izuna turned around and left.

* * *

Shogo ogled the sight of his little brother shoveling fried noodles in his mouth like there was no tomorrow. Izuna, somehow being the epitome of a Polite Boy, was currently pigging out. In front of him. And Yuuna. And his mother.

Asagi blinked once. Twice. "Izuna, dear, if you don't slow down, you might choke."

"Chill, kaa-san, I think he's just mad," Yuuna pointed out. She propped her chin on her palm. "Why _are _you mad anyway, bro?"

Izuna swallowed his noodles. "I stubbed my toe on someone's door," he said sullenly.

His sister startled. "That's... all?" Then she stood. "Kaa-san! Can I take Izuna-nii out today?"

Asagi nodded slowly. "I suppose. You're heading over to see the Akimichi couple, correct?"

"Hai!"

_Akimichi couple? _Izuna gave Yuuna a sideways glance. _She must mean Choji-ji and Fumiko-oba. They have a daughter, too, who's still a little kid._

"Make sure you come back an hour before dinner to do your homework!" their mother added sternly, causing Yuuna to wince.

"Yes, kaa-san..."

"Don't worry," Izuna whispered as he finished the last of his food. "I'll help you do it."

"Ugh. You're _amazing_, Izuna-nii."

* * *

Yuuna skipped down the streets with Izuna in tow, humming a little tune under her breath. Sometimes, Izuna envied his little sister, who lived life without a worry.

And she was quite the social butterfly, too—sending greetings right and left to the numerous townsfolk.

"Good afternoon, Akashima-jiji! Naoka-oba! Junko-onee-san!"

"Good afternoon, Yuuna-chan!"

"You should come by to the bakery sometime!"

"Ah, Yuuna-chan, as excitable as ever..."

Izuna shot his sister a look. She gave him her own look in return.

"What?" she sniffed. "Just because you're a social recluse doesn't mean I am."

"Social recluse?! Hey, am _not_!"

"Oh yeah?" Yuuna's judgemental expression turned into one of concern as they crossed the bridge to the Military District. "Tell me, Izuna-nii... do you have any friends?"

"I... Yeah, I do. Uh, there's Daichi-nii-san, Hikari-nee-chan—"

"Nii-san, those are your cousins."

"They count!"

Her expression morphed once more—this time to what would definitely pass as skeptical. "Even you don't believe that."

"... There's you and aniki."

"We're your family, silly." Yuuna looped an arm around his shoulders. "We're not going anywhere, but we're not exactly friends either, nii-san."

Izuna laughed. "Okay, fine. There's... Sasori-san. He's kind of prickly. Like a cactus. But... he isn't a bad person." _Although I'm pretty sure he doesn't think of me as anything else but a nuisance._

"Uh, who? Is he from your high school?"

"Never mind."

"Nii-saaaaan! Oh, look, we're here!" Just like that, Yuuna forgot about her ire and jumped at the opportunity to ring the doorbell. Izuna smiled. Sometimes, it was hard to forget that Yuuna was a little kid. She had the sarcasm of a teen and pretty good observational skills—and she could hold a mean grudge. But then her attention span came into play, and he was reminded that she was just nine.

Deidara's age. Or Deidara from then, not Deidara from now...

_Moving forward sounds so much simpler. _Izuna smiled for Choji when he opened the door, six-year-old Chocho hugging his broad leg. _That reminds me_—_did Hanabi-nee-chan really see Deidara? She said she was drunk, but... What if the timelines somehow collapsed and collided? _He soon banished the thought. _That makes no sense. Obviously, Hanabi-nee-chan encountered Deidara a long time ago... Before I started to time travel. And if _Deidara _were to time travel to the future, she would need to be travelling close to the speed of light in an inertial frame of reference. At 0.9999c at least, I'm guessing. Ugh. But me going back into the past makes zero sense, too. So what is it? _Izuna, now sitting down on Choji's couch, glanced up at the ceiling in thought. _Did the universe break or something?_

"Yuuna-chan!" Chocho chirped. "I went to the store and bought a new magazine today! You wanna see?!"

"Ooh! Sure thing, Cho-chan!"

Izuna shifted to the end of the couch to allow for Yuuna and Chocho to stretch out, cooing over makeup tips and cute pre-teen boys in Chocho's magazine.

_Did Yuuna just come here to hang out with Chocho?_

As if she could tell what he was thinking, Yuuna glanced up. "Ne, Izuna-nii, I didn't bring you here for this. I thought that you might be interested in the stories that Choji-ji likes to tell. I always love hearing them."

"Stories, huh?" Izuna sat up a little straighter. "What kind of stories?"

She grinned at him. "Good ones."

Huffing, he reached over and poked her forehead. "Thanks for being specific."

At that moment, Choji ambled in with a tray of snacks, causing Chocho to squeal in delight and proceed to stuff her face. She was quite a round little thing—very adorable, according to the aunties in the market.

Maybe he was just pessimistic, but Izuna couldn't help but think those aunties' remarks would soon turn ugly when Chocho grew up and kept the same figure.

Yuuna opened up a packet of salted peanuts, sharing with Izuna.

"Right." Choji sat down on his chair, suddenly exuding what Izuna could only describe as 'wise grandpa vibes'. "Where were we up to last time?"

"Ooh, ooh!" Chocho put up her hand. "I think... I think it was when Sakura-san and the others went to get the medicine!"

"Oho! So it is!" He beamed at his daughter, ruffling her hair. "You have a great memory, Cho-chan."

The little girl giggled as Izuna inched forward curiously, eager to hear this tale. He knew vaguely of this 'Sakura-san'—she was Haruno-sama the Head Healer, wasn't she? Asagi had also mentioned her a couple of times, but her interactions with him were hardly memorable.

It was clear that he was missing the context of prior events, but Izuna patiently listened to Choji's tale anyway. The man was an excellent storyteller, Izuna came to find, even if Choji explained that he hadn't actually been there to witness the actual retrieval of medicine.

"She went with Kisame-san, Kakashi-san, Sasori-san, and Kagami-san," Choji started. "Venturing off into the night with only each other for protection."

Chocho crunched loudly on a bag of barbecue chips, Yuuna occasionally sneaking some for herself.

The story continued until late afternoon. It stretched from the medicine retrieval to something more immersive and dark—Sasori getting his arm ripped off, almost going on a rampage and killing Kakashi and Neji and the death of Itsuki-kun and his mother, Mikoko.

More than once, Izuna glanced over to Chocho, wondering how she was taking it. The girl seemed to be quite thick-skinned, completely unfazed by the bloodier details.

"This next part," Choji paused to look at Izuna, "Might be upsetting for you."

Izuna schooled his face into neutrality. "I can take it."

The older male let out a throaty chuckle. "If you say so. With that hard look on your face, you almost look like... Ah, sorry. Let's keep going. It was clear that we weren't going to be getting out of the wilderness alive. Itachi-san devised a plan along with some others to assault the Zetsu stronghold. It was a bold, risky plan, and it almost went wrong when Deidara-san, Itachi-san, and Izumi-san were... kidnapped."

"By who?" Yuuna interjected.

Choji's expression tightened a little. "A vile man called Kabuto. I don't know all the details—was never told the full story of what went on in Kabuto-san's dungeons. But I'm sure... I could take a good guess."

Izuna's stomach churned, and he shifted, biting down on his tongue.

"Why don't you ask them?" Chocho blinked innocently.

"Ah, that's because... Everyone who was down there—"

"Is dead," Izuna interrupted without thinking. Nevertheless, he held Choji's stare. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"Ehh?! They died down there?!" Yuuna smacked Chocho's arm.

"Enough!" she scolded, and Chocho pouted.

"No. If I'm right... only one of them did," Izuna answered for Choji.

The wide-set man shifted in his chair, an uncomfortable bead of sweat sliding down his temple. "Hai... You're correct. Uchiha Izumi-san passed away in Kabuto's dungeons."

_She was murdered, _Izuna connected the dots.

Choji continued telling the story, but it became a little more toned down and less heavy on the details. Finally, it was getting darker, and Yuuna and Izuna had to head home.

"Come back soon!" Chocho called after them as they departed.

"We will!" promised Yuuna, waving. "Goodnight Cho-chan, Choji-ji!"

"Night." Izuna offered a halfhearted wave, too, a small pond of guilt beneath the apex of his heart for the way he had hijacked Choji's tale with little consideration for him and the girls. "Come on, Yuuna, let's hurry so we can work on your homework."

"Hai!"

* * *

"Did you kids have fun?" Asagi asked over dinner (omurice with the _fluffiest _eggs), smiling.

"It was great!" Yuuna enthused. "Ne, chick magnet, what did you do today?"

Shogo scowled. "Will you stop calling me that?"

"Ooh! You were visiting a girlfriend, weren't you?!"

"Yuuna!"

Asagi smiled wider. "What's this about a girlfriend, Sho-kun?"

"Erk!"

Izuna laughed along with his family as they dissolved into giggles, Shogo playfully smacking their sister over the head. _I wonder how different it would have been if otou-san had lived. If okaa-san had lived, too. But this... I don't think I would want to trade it for the world._

* * *

Sasori opened the door, unsurprised to find Uchiha Izuna staring up at him once again. At first, they just stared at each other for a while. When Sasori was about to close the door, Izuna finally spoke up.

"I'm not here about Deidara."

"Then what do you want?"

The Uchiha boy's eyes lingered on Sasori's arms. "Which one is real?"

"Ah. I'm surprised anyone even told you, brat." Without any verbal invitation, Sasori ducked back into his house. After a moment's hesitation, Izuna followed after him, hastily slipping his shoes off and closing the door behind him.

Like last time, Sasori brewed tea for the both of them, this brew not as strong as the previous one. It was more water than tea. When Izuna asked, he merely answered, "I haven't been sleeping lately, so I'm cutting back on the caffeine."

"Oh."

"Hmph." The red-haired man took a sip. "Why don't you take a guess?"

Izuna tilted his head a little to examine both of Sasori's arms, which were both obscured by long black sleeves. "Is it the right?"

Sasori put his cup down. "Is that your final answer?"

"... Yes."

A flicker of approval in his brown eyes, Sasori rolled up the sleeve of the arm in question, revealing a prosthetic that looked too human-like for Izuna's comfort.

"I thought it would be... uglier," he said lamely.

Sasori snorted. "I had the old arm removed and replaced it with this. My monster arm was an eyesore."

"Hn."

"Hmph."

Izuna drank his tea a little faster than last time, finding the weaker taste to be more bearable. "You know, Sasori-san, you were probably right."

He gave him an intrigued glance.

"About my father, that is," Izuna clarified a little awkwardly. "He probably wasn't what everyone said he was. Especially if he committed suicide like you said. In the end, he was just... a man." He didn't know what kind of response he was expecting, but Sasori's sudden frown certainly wasn't one of them.

"He wasn't that folk hero everybody portrayed him to be," Sasori replied. "I'm glad you've come to terms with that. However," his gaze sharpened, "there's something else on your mind."

He was offered a crooked smile by Izuna. "Not really. I've just realized some things recently—"

"Please don't insult me like this," Sasori said flatly, glowering at the fidgeting boy. "I've met men who are better at hiding things than you. Will I have to pry the information out of you?"

Izuna huffed. "Why do you care?"

Sasori's finger, which had had absently tapping the smooth handle of his teacup, ceased movement. "Is there a reason I shouldn't? It was you who came to me, not the other way round. There's something you want me to know, so stop twiddling your thumbs, brat." A low, irritated growl rose in his throat as he poured himself more tea. "Are all kids like this? Is beating around the bush some kind of new trend? Hmph."

_Geez, so impatient... _Izuna sighed. "You're going to think I'm being ridiculous."

"Now's a bit too late for that."

"Ugh. Fine, you really want to know?" Exasperated, Izuna almost spilled his tea all over his shirt. As he composed himself, putting down his cup and saucer, he cleared his throat. "If my dad really killed himself, do you know what means for me? It means that he didn't care enough about me to continue living. It feels... like he got out of here before he even gave me a chance." His frown deepened. "I thought I wouldn't care so much, but... I do." _Especially after... Deidara told me how much she hated her dad._

"Do you hate Itachi?" Sasori questioned nonchalantly.

"What?" It was almost the exact same question Izuna himself had asked Deidara. "No! I... No, I don't. I don't think I could ever hate him. Besides, I don't even remember him. It just... hurts, I guess. That he probably didn't even think twice about me."

Sasori's lips set in a firm line. "You are a fool."

"Huh?"

"If you really think that, you are a _fool_. When your mother died, he was drowning in his own sorrow. You were his only reason for living—I've told you before that your father lacked vision. And he was the most unfortunate blind man I had ever met."

"What are you saying?"

"He couldn't even see you," Sasori stated. "For what you were. And when he finally did, it was too late. The sickness was too strong. Itachi... was always too late. With his idiotic living in the past mentality." He sat up straighter abruptly. "I was there when he died. The regret in his eyes... almost made me sick. His last words weren't even words—just names. Sasuke's and yours. If he hadn't died there and then," he squeezed his cup tighter, "I think I would have strangled him.

"Your father loved you, Izuna. It was just unfortunate that he realized it too late, just like every other time in his life. His greatest regret was probably not fighting harder for you. The misery... was unavoidable."

"I..." The words got caught in Izuna's throat. "I think I should go."

"Hm." Sasori stood. "Just don't give me that bullcrap again." He collected the tea set, showing Izuna his back as he stalked to the kitchen. "Your father had many fatal flaws as a person, but his love for his family was not one of them."

Izuna disappeared before Sasori could come back, feeling a tightening in his chest.

Then the fresh hair hit his cheeks, and he exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing up a little. A wide smile started to stretch across his face, tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

_"Your father loved you, Izuna."_

A shaky breath left his mouth. _He loved me._

That dream he had had when Itachi visited him, whispering to him about Deidara but also _something else_—_how he was watching over him_—

_Even in death, he's looking out for me._

_I hate how it had to turn out this way._

Izuna turned his gaze skyward.

_But I'll make the best of it._

Then he glanced backward at the house behind him.

_So why can't you do the same... Sasori-san?_

A little voice in his head whispered the answer.

_Because he's been hurt more than you will ever be._

* * *

Izuna hadn't been expecting this. At least not so soon.

Deidara gazed at him from opposite the field, slack-jawed. Then she sprinted toward him.

"You're okay!"

He didn't know why, but he had a feeling that this would be the last time he ever saw her.

Izuna hissed in pain when Deidara stomped on his foot, glaring daggers at him. "What was that for?!"

"Where the hell did you go off to, hm?! You've been missing for over a week!"

It was true that he hadn't returned to her timeline for several days—

"I thought you just left," Deidara ranted. "But I also thought you died or got kidnapped or something, yeah!" The fox rains poured from the clouds that hung above the meadow, soaking both of them. "What's your excuse?"

"I... I don't have one? I just went home without telling anyone. I'm sorry."

"You _better _be," she seethed. "My mom was worried half to death about you. If she weren't out of town, I'd drag you to kowtow to her, hm!"

"Sorry..."

Deidara dragged him across the field and to her backyard porch, where they took shelter from the rain. She unapologetically threw a bristly towel onto his face, ignoring his spluttering when the coarse material almost gave him carpet burn.

"Why did you come back?" she asked eventually, a towel draped over her blonde head.

_I don't know, but... _"I think I just wanted to ask you something."

She deadpanned at him. "Seriously?"

"Uh, yes?"

She palmed her face. "You're such an imbecile..."

Izuna scowled. "If that's what you call dedicated people, sure."

"Feh! There's a fine line between dedication and idiocy, hm."

Well, he couldn't really argue that, so he let it go.

"So what did you want to ask me?"

"What is art?"

And Deidara positively _glowed_.

* * *

_"Ne, Hanabi-onee-chan, what was Deidara like?" Izuna inquired one day. He had just finished sparring with her for the day, and both of them were drenched in sweat. They had taken cover underneath a shady tree, fanning themselves with their hands to cool off. To Hanabi's credit, she seemed much less exhausted than him._

_"Deidara? Eh? Where is this suddenly coming from?" Hanabi gave him a puzzled look. "Well, if you really want to know her, I'm not the right person to ask."_

_"Aw," Izuna pleaded, "But you can tell me something, right?"_

_She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're doing that thing. Stop it, it's not cute."_

_Izuna's eyes widened, mock-hurt._

_"If you don't stop, we'll train for another hour, and I won't tell you anything!"_

_"Erk! Sorry, Hanabi-onee-chan!"_

_"Deidara..." Hanabi hummed contemplatively. "She was kind of a hothead. She could be level-headed, but she definitely had a temper. Didn't stand for bullshit. Surprisingly forgiving, though, but she was probably biased. Oh! You don't know, but she was in love with someone who was a criminal at the time."_

Sasori? _It had to be._

_"Her intuition about him was right, though, so no one's complaining. Sasori-san is kind of a prick_—_"_

_Izuna agreed._

_"_—_but he wasn't... evil. At least not anymore. But I think the most people remember her as was... an artist."_

_Artist? This was new._

_"You could glean a lot of things out of her just by asking about her art. At least," Hanabi smiled at him, "that was the impression I got from her. But like I said, we weren't close. If you really want to get to know her, you'll probably have to ask your aunt, Rin. Or maybe even your uncle, Kakashi."_

Or maybe_, he thought, taking in that Hanabi had deliberately avoided mentioning paying Sasori a visit, _I'll just ask her myself.

* * *

"Art is an explosion!" Deidara declared with such certainty and passion that Izuna almost thought that it _must _have been completely true. Her towel flew off her head as she pointed at Izuna, looking a combination of smug and triumphant, hair sticking up all over the place. It was quite a funny sight. "I'm glad you asked, ignorant peasant—"

"Eh?!"

"—because I'm about to _educate _you on about true art, yeah!"

The clouds rumbled as if it were the earth's belly.

"I'm listening," Izuna said as he sat down on a wooden chair, leaving Deidara to pace back and forth, trying to think up words to describe this magical, wonderful thing she called art.

"There's nothing more beautiful," Deidara stated as she dipped her slender hands in the clay pouches attached to her belt, "than watching everything fade away in a grand explosion, hm!" With quick movements of her hands, she produced a small bird-like dragon which she sent flying around the veranda. "Because art is the same as life in that it is fleeting! Everything we care about," the dragon flew out into the rain, "will never last, which is why we should celebrate it while it _is _here—and when it's finally gone, we'll remember how it went out in deafening _bang_! _Katsu!_" The dragon deformed for a split second before it exploded, the loud noise echoing in Izuna's ears.

She turned to him, grinning unabashedly. "And that's the true meaning of art. Appreciating what we have and then sending it off with the hugest, most explosive impression! Hm!"

"So it's like a philosophy," Izuna thought aloud.

"Hm, well, I guess," she conceded, "But that doesn't make it any less artistic, just saying! And while my explosions are surely the purest form of art," her face was so smug, Izuna noted, a little awed at her confidence, "There are other forms of art, too, which are respectable! Like my mother's music, her acting, her singing, her painting..."

Izuna had noticed this before, but she seemed to look up to Uri a lot.

"It's all beautiful," Deidara said wistfully, "And none of it will last because it's just nature to be fleeting and constantly changing, hm. But while it's here, we should appreciate it. And that's how I'm going to live my life. Without any regrets and hesitation."

"Huh, I see..." Izuna cupped his chin thoughtfully. "Then what would you think... about someone who was the total opposite? Who was just wasting away in his house?"

Her face scrunched up. "He sounds hopeless. I'd say that he needs a good kick up the ass, hm!"

"Right." He grinned before it faded as he recalled a very important detail. "But he's a different case... He's someone who's lost everything he ever cared about in his life. And now, he's just... stagnant."

"Is he really living then?" Deidara crossed her arms, giving him a serious look. "That's not living, Izuna-kun, that's _existing_. There's a really big difference, yeah."

"Like?"

"Well, just think of it this way. Just because you're breathing," she said, "doesn't mean you're alive. When you live, you make the most of your life and live it to the fullest, hm! There's beauty in it, just like how there's beauty in art. But when you just exist, then... there's just nothing in your life. Nothing _worth _living for. And when that happens, then what's the point of existence in the first place?"

"I can't blame him," Izuna said honestly. "I think he really thinks that there's nothing left for him. I think he's just waiting to finally die."

"That would be the worst thing," Deidara said immediately. "Just giving up on life like that. That just means you've admitted defeat. I'm glad I don't know him. I would hate for him to live like that, hm. If I ever met him," she was getting surprisingly worked up about this, that Izuna had to wonder how the universe worked in such funny ways, "I'd tell him to get up and start living again, hm! Because life is something you only go through once, Izuna-kun, and it'd be stupid to throw it all away. You think the people he's lost want to be dead? Hm? How stupid! If he can't find it in him to live for himself," she cast him an almost desperate look, "Why won't he do it for them? Shit! What the hell is wrong with me today? Urgh..." Grunting, she smacked her cheeks as if to snap herself out of whatever stupor she was in. "I don't even know this guy, hm. Why am I being like this...?"

"I didn't mean to—"

"No. Tell him... tell him that I'm sure they miss him just as much as he misses them. But I want him to open up his eyes... and see how beautiful the world can be. Like I said," Deidara glanced at him from beneath her hair, "life is fleeting. They'll meet again someday... But in the meantime, he should start living again. Because there's nothing greater than that, hm."

"Deidara?"

"Hm?"

Izuna stood up and hugged her. "Thank you."

"Eh?" Flushing a little, she returned the hug. "Thanks for listening to me talk about my art, I guess... Most of the other kids just ignore me, hm."

"Then they don't really know what art is, huh?" Izuna said cheekily.

"Heh. Guess they don't, yeah. Ne, Izuna-kun?"

"Yeah?"

"Why does it feel like you're trying to say goodbye?" Deidara frowned at him. "Are you leaving again today?"

"I... I am. Now actually." Izuna looked up at the clouds, which were slowly clearing up. But the rain was still going. The fox rains were back. "Maybe we'll meet again in the future, though."

"I'm sure we will," Deidara gave him a grin, "Even if we're really old by then. Goodbye, Izuna-kun."

"Goodbye, Deidara-chan."

She watched him go, watched him return into the woods where they had first met. A part of her longed to chase after him, but deep down inside, she felt as if Izuna had never belonged in this world in the first place.

Deidara stared at the treeline before heading inside, softly humming, "_Silly straw scarecrow, swaying about_..."

* * *

When Izuna woke up in his bed, he instantly sat up, ignoring the dizzying sensation that came with such an abrupt movement. He quickly changed out of his pajamas, looking at the clock from his peripheral. He had taken an afternoon nap at one, which had lasted until four, apparently. Outside, the fox rains were still going, the weather almost completely unchanged from Deidara's timeline.

In Konoha, the skies were grayer.

"Izuna-kun?" Asagi poked her head out of the kitchen when she heard him coming down the stairs. "Izuna-kun!"

"Sorry! I'll be back soon!" Without even saying goodbye, Izuna dashed off without even an umbrella.

"Izuna-kun?!" Asagi stared after him in disbelief.

Yuuna appeared from the living room. "What's up, kaa-san?"

"I... I'm not entirely sure. But whatever it is... I hope it goes well for him."

* * *

Walking through the Military District, Hanabi had her arm interwoven with Sasuke's. "So it was the old man after all? When are you making the arrest, huh?"

"Actually," Sasuke seemed to blush a little, "I asked the Chief for some time off."

"Ehh?! But you were so invested in this case!"

"Hn..." He looked away, glaring at the ground. "If you really must know, it wasn't that important."

Hanabi's lips quirked upward. This would be the closest she ever got to squeezing out something sweet from him. "You do care."

They were crossing the Naka Bridge when, suddenly, Izuna rushed past them.

"Hi, Hanabi-onee-chan, Sasuke-oji!" he panted as he sprinted off.

"Izuna-kun?" Hanabi looked over her shoulder, intrigued. "I wonder where he's going..."

Sasuke, also staring in the same direction as her, was silent. _Sasori's house is in that direction... isn't it?_

* * *

By the time Izuna arrived at Sasori's house, he was soaking wet. Without waiting, he banged his fist on the door. "Sasori-san! Sasori-san, are you in there?!"

There was no response.

_Where is he? _Izuna looked around, almost jumping when he saw a lonely figure with a black umbrella coming his way. He narrowed his eyes in a squint. _Is that...? _"Sasori-san!"

Sasori blinked in mild surprise when Izuna, looking no better than a drowned rat, appeared before him out of breath. _Did he run all the way here from his house? _He had gone out shopping for groceries, hence the bag he was holding in his right hand. There was a leek sticking out of said bag.

"I want to talk..."

Was it about his father again? Or was it Deidara? Sasori's grip tightened around the handle of his umbrella.

Izuna met his gaze. "About _you_!"

_This is a new one. _Sasori tilted his head. "And what about me?"

"Why are you alive, Sasori-san?"

The question almost knocked the wind out of his lungs. "There's no particular reason," he said mechanically, his eyes glazing over. _Not anymore._

"Then are you really alive?"

His temper flared. "Look, brat—"

"I said," Izuna cut him off with a steely glare. "Are you really alive?"

Sasori scoffed, but there was little conviction behind it. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"No." Itachi's son shook his head. "Because that's not living. That's... just _existing_!"

"Kkh...!"

_"That isn't living!" Deidara ground out, voice harsh. "Living isn't the same as existing!"_

_Why... _Sasori's pupils dilated. _Why are you throwing _her _words into my face?!_

But Izuna wasn't finished. "Sasori-san... You've always said my father was always too late. And he was. But you... can still live. If you can't do it for yourself, then do it for _her_."

It felt as if a bomb had been unleashed between them, sucking out the air and then detonating with a loud, resonating explosion.

The leek jostled when the bag fell out of Sasori's hand.

"Go home," Sasori hissed, his face contorting angrily. "_Now_."

"No. I'm not letting you send me away again! This isn't what she wanted for you—"

"You've got some _nerve_," Izuna cringed at his tone, not completely unaware of how Sasori almost seemed to be growing taller in his rage until he loomed over him like a demon, "trying to tell me that you actually know a thing about her—!" At first, Izuna thought he was finally going to strike him for his insolence, but then he picked up his bag and started stalking back to his house, fury and bitterness radiating from his form.

"Sasori-san!" the Uchiha boy raced after him, latching onto his sleeve.

Suddenly, gravity _stumbled_, and Izuna fell backward and into a puddle with a huge splash, Sasori having shoved him aside with little effort. Not even expressing the slightest regret of doing so, the red-haired man continued down his path.

Izuna grabbed onto him again, gritting his teeth.

"Get _off _me! For the last time," Sasori whipped his arm aside, sending Izuna falling backward again, "Why can't you let her go and leave me be?! Are your ears stuffed with your own stubbornness?! Go home, already!"

"NO!" he exploded. "Why can't _you _let her go?! What you're doing... is shoving her memory into a closet and imprisoning yourself along with her! In the _past_! You said my father lacked vision... But you're the same as him! It's like you're not even really here!"

"Shut up..."

"Open up your eyes," Izuna swallowed, feeling a storm of emotions threatening to devour him like a tidal wave to a boat, "And see how beautiful the world can be."

A snarl ripped through the air. "Shut _up_! Don't you _dare _tell me such bullshit... there is no beauty in this wretched world! And if there ever was to begin with," Sasori exhaled sharply through gritted teeth, lowering his umbrella and allowing the rain to soak him, too, "It's gone and it's never coming back! This world... is a wasteland for me!"

"You're wrong! Beauty fades, but it'll be there if you just look for it!" Tears rolled down his cheeks, mixing with the rain as shouted at the man before him, broken and defeated by the universe.

"I've only ever found true beauty in one thing," he ground out. "And she's _dead_. There will never be anything like her again and it's _my fault she died having to protect me_! If life has taught me anything, it's that I'll never be able to hold on to anything forever! She was _everything_," the umbrella dropped to the ground as he clutched his face, jaw clenched, "She breathed meaning into my life when I was prepared to die. She's gone, so what's the point?! She was the only good I ever had and she's gone!"

"She's gone... But do you think she wants to be dead? Don't insult her like that, Sasori-san... And live! You'll see her again one day, but she would never want for you to be like this! If she ever really meant anything to you, then stop and do something with the gift that she loved so much," he sniffed, a sob wracking his shoulders. "_Life_. Because it's fleeting—"

Sasori choked on his words.

"—and she loved it so much. But she loved _you _more than life itself, so don't do this to her!"

He opened his mouth to say something, but Izuna wasn't done.

"You said she would have never cried over words... And maybe you're right! Maybe when you knew her, she really wouldn't have. But you know what?! I'm certain... I'm certain that she would have cried seeing you like this! Maybe you'll never find beauty again, but you have to try...!" Izuna buried his face into his hands, trying to stifle his tears. "You have to _try _for her! Because she tried, and now it's up to you... It's up to us...! What we have is an opportunity we'll only ever get once...! I'm living for myself and my father. So why won't... you do the same? Deidara loved you enough to save you at the cost of her own life... So why won't you do something with it? Sasori-san, you are her _legacy_!"

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Sasori stared at Izuna with wide eyes. At first, he was frozen, seemingly in shock. Then his gaze became faraway, as if he were looking at something else.

"Go home," he rasped.

"Huh?"

"Go home, Izuna."

Startled by his lack of outburst, Izuna took a step back. Then he retreated, his heart racing from the adrenaline. Once he was certain he was far enough from Sasori, he hid behind a tree, watching for his next action.

Sasori didn't bother to pick up his umbrella. Or his groceries. The leek sagged limply, droplets of rain travelling down its stalk.

Izuna waited.

It was like watching a stone statue crumble, finally too weathered by the rain to keep standing tall and stoic. Sasori fell to his knees, a mournful cry of years upon years worth of wretched grief, resentment, and sorrow rising from his throat that would haunt Izuna's dreams.

_"DEIDARAAA!"_

Swaying on his feet like a scarecrow barraged by the wind, Izuna almost staggered watching the most unmovable man he had ever met break down in beneath the fox rains, the universe having shattered his soul into pieces.

But beyond the grief, beyond the sorrow—

There was acceptance.

* * *

The sun rose every morning, and Asagi along with it. She had stayed up all night in Izuna's room, looking after him. The boy had come home soaking wet and with a fever.

"Kaa-san?" Yuuna pushed the door open with her foot. "I have more tea. Also, Rin-oba is here. You can take a rest now—she'll look after him."

"Eh? Rin-san?" Asagi frowned. "You greeted her properly, right?"

"Hai, hai. I still don't like her, but she says she's here to help... Of course I wouldn't turn her away or anything."

Asagi sighed with relief. "Good... Thank you for telling me, Yuuna-chan."

"It's nothing. Hope Izuna-nii gets better soon."

True to Yuuna's word, Rin had indeed arrived, and she made her way upstairs. As soon as she entered Izuna's bedroom, Asagi could see genuine concern and remorse on her face. Still, she wasted no time. "Rin-san, could you make me a warm towel, please?"

"Of course." Rin dipped her chin and went to the upstairs bathroom.

Hours later, Izuna's fever had pretty much broken. The boy awoke as afternoon rolled around, blearily opening his eyes. "Okaa-san...?"

"I'm here." Asagi kissed his temple. "Shh, my child..."

"Heh..." The boy smiled slightly. "I'm sorry... for worrying you..." He let out a cough.

"Rest now," his mother soothed. "You'll be better in no time."

"Thank you... for helping... me..."

"It wasn't just me," Asagi admitted as she went for the door, reassured that her son would be fine. "Your aunt Rin looked after you when I was sleeping in the morning."

_Eh? Rin-oba? _Izuna blinked at the ceiling, feeling a little delirious. _She finally got over it then... just like Sasori-san. _There was a pang of guilt in his heart at having viciously tore down the man's defenses, but they had been worn and rotted in the first place, and something was bound to happen eventually. Maybe, if he hadn't intervened, there would have been a worse outcome.

Downstairs, Rin and Asagi were exchanging words, both clearly more comfortable with one another now. The doorbell rang then. It couldn't be Hanabi, since she always knocked.

When Asagi opened the door, she discovered the oddest sight. "Sa-Sasori-san...?!"

He made a noncommittal noise for a greeting, holding up a bag. "Here. It's supplements and some warmed up chicken rice." Sasori ignored her gaping expression, acting like this wasn't the first time they had talked for a literal decade. "Knowing him, he's probably sick." _The pathetic brat... _He heaved a sigh. "I owe him this at the very least."

Asagi blinked, taking the bag of food. _So the friend Izuna kept visiting... was it Sasori-san? _"Thank you... D-do you want to come in?"

"No." She wasn't surprised; she had been expecting him to shoot down her offer, which she had only extended out of surprise and politeness. "But..." Asagi perked up, even more shocked. "Maybe sometime in the future, if you'll have me."

"Ah... I see. Well..."

Sasori was already backpedaling. He gave her a curt nod of goodbye before disappearing into the crowd.

* * *

Konoha City was suffocating.

It wasn't just the pollution that came with urbanization, Sasori deduced. Though that was probably a factor.

The bonds he had once had were gone. Obito was gone, Itachi was gone, Deidara was gone, and so was Izumi... Rin and Kakashi he had never been close with. The rest of them, the people that Sasori had traveled to Konoha with... they were all living their own lives now.

They didn't need him to overturn anything.

Sasori stared at the piece of paper in his hand. He had scrawled down Izuna's postal address on it. Then he shoved it in his pocket, making a silent promise to write.

First, he had business to take care of.

That day, he visited the grave markers of Obito, Chiyo, Deidara, Itachi, and Izumi. He prayed to all of them, then got off his knees and visited his grandmother's chicken rice shop.

"Ehh?" The old lady who owned twenty percent of Chiyo's Chicken Rice stopped chopping up a chicken when Sasori approached her with his offer. "Are you sure about this? What about you?"

"I don't need it," he replied mildly. "The shop's all yours from now on."

"Oh... Oh, thank you!"

After that, he returned to his home, where he had packed all of his stuff. The house and the things he had left untouched in it would be reclaimed by the government, or by a private buyer.

Donning his traveling cloak—it was a replica of his old Akatsuki cloak which he had gotten custom made—he strapped a large scroll on his back, which carried all of what he wanted to keep with him.

He didn't necessarily have the money to be doing all of this.

But that didn't matter.

Pinned on the collar of his shirt, underneath his wind-proof cloak, was a shiny blue brooch. That brought him all the comfort he needed.

Heading north—toward snow-capped mountains and pine trees and dunes of sand and ice; unchanged for millennia and untouched by mass human development—he left the city, looking back only once.

* * *

**_Several months later_**

"Goodbye, sensei!" the fifth graders chorused. "Have a nice holiday!"

Umeko-sensei smiled warmly at all of them. "Goodbye, everyone! And please do your holiday homework, too!"

"Aww, sensei...!"

Izuna was packing up when a crowd of kids appeared at his table.

The first friend he had ever made in the school, Yuka, gave him a grin. "You ready to go? We're all getting ramen today!"

"Yeah, ramen!" cheered the biggest boy in their group, a young man named Hiromichi.

Izuna got out of his seat. "Hai, hai. You're the boss, Yuka-chan."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll never get used to you, boy genius. I'm glad you decided to join us instead of being in that stuffy high school, but you're so weird."

He merely grinned at her. "Is that so?"

Together, there were five in their group. Yuka, the only girl who had cat-like eyes and might have passed for a boy with her short haircut; Hiromichi with his broadness that he claimed was mostly ramen; Yasahiro who was more introverted and was smarter than many gave him credit for; Isao, who had a fascination with insects and liked hunting for cicadas.

Finally, there was Izuna. Son of Uchiha Itachi and Uchiha Izumi, son of Shimizu Asagi, brother to Shimizu Shogo and Shimizu Yuuna.

Friend to Sasori.

"Ne, have you gotten any letters from him this month?" Yuka asked when they were all sitting down at a ramen bar, Hiromichi eagerly saying he was planning on ordering two bowels of pork ramen. Yasahiro was giving him a flat look from the corner of his eye, while Isao was laughing loudly.

Izuna shook his head. "No, not yet. But that's okay. That just means he's found other people." _Or something else to do, but I hope it's the former. _"It'll probably come soon, though. Maybe before Christmas."

Yuka nodded understandingly. "Yeah, maybe. Can I read his last letter? They're always so interesting. Well, some of them are anyway."

"I have his latest one in my bag," Izuna unzipped his schoolbag, removing a folded up piece of paper which had obviously been in an envelope before he opened it the first time, "But it's not _that _interesting."

"I don't care. Let's read it anyway!"

So they did.

The letter read:

_Izuna:_

_I met with Hitoshi today. He's as much of a loudmouth as ever, but he seems to be better at handling alcohol than Deidara reported. He tried to drink Old Man Satoshi under the table last night, and ending up having to have his stomach pumped. It was amusing to watch him vomit all over Kaiya-san's lap._

_I ended up spending almost my entire day with him. This is what you want, isn't it? For me to live? This isn't exactly how I imagined it. But it's fine._

_If I ever want to be left alone, I just have to return to my house. Orochimaru hasn't spoken to me in months. I'm starting to think I left him behind in Konoha._

_I don't think I ever thanked you, even in my other letters._ _You have my gratitude, Izuna._

_I wish Deidara could have met you properly. She would have spoiled you to death, but it's a small price to pay. Your mother might not have been so happy about it, though._

_Maybe you don't like hearing this, but you're just like your father in some ways._

_And that's not a bad thing, which I hope you've realized at this point. If not, then you are a fool._

_Expect a visit from me this spring._

—_Sasori_

"I said it before, but I'll say it again. Your uncle seems like a cool guy," Yuka gushed.

Izuna's lips quirked up, amused. "You think so?"

"Well, duh! He must be if he's fighting polar bears."

"There are no polar bears in the mountains," Izuna pointed out. "Though from the sound of it, Hitoshi-san might be able to pass as one. He's really been letting himself go, apparently."

They both shared a laugh at that.

A giggling caught his attention for a moment; he turned around to see Hanabi and Sasuke walking past the restaurant, both of them caught up in newlywed bliss (Sasuke somehow managed to make his poker-face exude positive emotion; it even turned into a smile for a split-second).

They were soon gone, though he knew he would be seeing them again at dinner tonight.

Izuna waved the chef over when Hiromichi complained about his empty stomach. "One miso ramen, please!"

* * *

Sasori sat on his veranda, watching the northern lights dance across the sky with his cloak draped around his shoulders and clutching a hot cup of tea in gloved hands.

Inside his house, on his desk, was a fully composed letter that he would take to the post office tomorrow morning.

Sasori sipped his tea.

He was content.

* * *

**_A/N: Hi. This will be the last installment in this Trial of Man AU, which was basically the unhappy ending version of the story. Thank you. Expect another ToM update in the near future._**


End file.
